


Rage

by Krystallazuli



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Loki Angst, Loki-centric, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:59:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystallazuli/pseuds/Krystallazuli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is from the scene in The Dark World, as Loki sits in prison following Frigga's death. This is a glimpse into Loki's mind, and a brief flashback into his youth. It is connected to my Infinity series of stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rage

  
[Loki](http://krystallazuli.deviantart.com/art/Loki-464020793) by [krystallazuli](http://krystallazuli.deviantart.com/) on [deviantART](http://www.deviantart.com)

<http://krystallazuli.deviantart.com/art/Loki-464020793>

 

RAGE

“Your mother is dead.” The guard’s words, spoken through the glass, had shattered him, though he did not show it. He simply nodded, letting him know he had heard him.

What had he done?

He turned his back to the guards and clenched his fists, sending out a burst of energy. Everything in his cell shattered in that blast.

He did not care. He lashed out at everything. Picking up a piece of wood from the table, he slammed it into the wall.

Ripping off his tunic, he threw it against the wall, screaming in rage.

He tore his boots off, throwing them at the glass where the guard had stood.  
  
“She is dead! I killed her, didn’t I?” he screamed at the walls of his prison.

No one answered. No one heard. The walls did not care.

“ _You might want to take the stairs to the left.”_

That is what he had said to Kurse. That had been the fastest way to the main parts of the palace. He had sent him up there. He had caused her death. Where had Thor been? Why had he not been there to protect her?

The guilt consumed him. His last words to her had been an argument. He could never take them back now. He had refuted her, told her that she was not his mother. Now he could never tell her the truth. He had loved her like a mother. She WAS his mother. She might not have been his birth mother, but she had been his mother nonetheless. She had raised him, trusted him, and believed in him. She had been his champion.

And he had killed her! He had sent her death to her!

“WHY?” he shouted, stomping around the room. “WHY? WHY? WHY? Why did I send him up there?”  
  
 _‘Because,’_ he thought _, ‘you hated Odin. That’s why. You were jealous of Thor.’_

But no one heard him. No one cared.

He backed into the wall, sliding down it, tears streaming down his face. He barely noticed the cuts on his feet, the blood everywhere. He must have stepped on the broken glass, but he did not care. His mother was dead. He could never tell her he was sorry.

No one outside cared. They did not see what he was doing. He made sure of that, creating an illusion

His whole life was an illusion – magic

He thought back to when he had first learned magic.

His mother had taken him to visit a friend, promising he would learn some wonderful tricks. Enchanted with the opportunity to finally know something that his brother did not know, he had gone along readily.

They had arrived at a large country home in Cartherion. Heimdall had even smiled at him when they left.

His mother’s friend, Beythran, had greeted them enthusiastically. When he was presented, she smiled down at him, then grasped his chin to lift his face up to better see it.

“He will be an excellent learner, I can see it in his eyes.” Beythran announced.

He had felt excitement course through his body. He was going to learn _magic!_ He had just been pronounced as an excellent learner. FINALLY he had found something he could be better at than Thor. He couldn’t wait to learn some magic. Then he would show Thor and his friends something!

They entered a room in the house. A little, dark-haired girl sat there sewing. She looked up when they entered. “Mommy!” She jumped up, racing up to wrap her arms around her mother’s legs.

“This is my youngest daughter, Katirya, although we call her Kiri.” Beythran had introduced them.

Kiri’s long, black hair had several small braids interwoven into it. Her blue eyes looked at him with interest. He was taller than her, much taller, but he felt a strange connection to her. He wondered what it was.

“Hello,” he had extended his hand, “I am Loki of Asgard.”

“Loki… I like that name,” she had taken his hand, shaking it lightly as she spoke. “I am Katirya, or Kiri. My mom says my name is too big for me yet. Do you want to go outside and play tag?”

He had looked up at his mother, who smiled, then answered for him. “Later, sweetie. He can go out with you in a bit.”

“Have you come to learn magic?” Kiri asked.

“Yes, that is why my mother has brought me here.” He had answered, puffing up proudly that he was going to learn this new skill.

“Oh,” Kiri’s face fell. “I cannot learn magic.”

He suddenly felt sorry for her. He was going to ask her why she couldn’t; was she too young? But before he could voice his question, Kiri’s mother instructed her to go out and play with the other children.

“Yes, mother. Can we play later?” Kiri had asked hopefully.

“Yes, as soon as we finish Loki’s first lesson. Now run along with you,” Beythran had shooed her daughter out with a laugh.

“She is such a sweet child. Does she not have any of the skills?” Frigga had asked as soon as Kiri left the room.

“Unfortunately, she has none. It is why I live here in the country. Her father finds it a great embarrassment,” Beythran admitted. “Now, let us start with that first lesson.”

They had spent over an hour, during which he had learned how to create an illusion of himself, and several other tricks.  
  
“Now, you need a break. You are doing excellent! I am so proud of you.” Frigga had announced at the end of the session.

“Indeed. Why don’t you go out and find Kiri?” Beythran had said.

He had grinned at his mother’s praise. The feeling of accomplishment made him walk out of the room proudly. He was strutting through the gardens looking for Kiri, when he heard shouting. He started to run towards the sounds down one of the paths.

“You are just too dumb to do magic!”

Kiri shouted back, “I DO know magic! Leave me alone!”

He burst into an open area to see Kiri, with her fists clenched at her sides, facing a taller girl. Several other children stood around them.  
  
The taller girl shoved Kiri, forcing her to the ground. “Just stay there, you are so stupid. You don’t know any magic. Everyone knows that. That’s why Mom has to stay in the country. To hide you,” she taunted her. “Dad says you’re an embarrassment to the family!”

He realized the taller girl must be Kiri’s sister.  
  
“Go away, Kyrath!” Tears were streaming down Kiri’s face.

Kyrath grabbed the other children, pulling them to her. “Leave the little crybaby alone.”

_“Leave the crybaby alone! Leave the crybaby alone!”_ The other children started chanting as they formed a circle around Kiri.

“She said to leave her alone!” he shouted, walking to confront the children. He was taller than any of them.

They looked up, sneering.

“Let’s get out of here!” one of them shouted. “Leave the crybaby alone!” They took off running.

He sat on the ground next to Kiri. Using his sleeve, he wiped her tears. “I am sorry they were so mean to you.” It brought to mind his brother and his friends. They mocked him on the practice field.

“I DO know magic. I do, I do, I do,” she insisted, sniffling a little.

“I believe you,” he said, although he really didn’t. He remembered her mother stating that very fact before they had started his lesson. But he knew what it was like to be picked on. Thor and his friends were always teasing him; he simply did not excel with battle skills. Even Sif was better than he was.

“No, you don’t,” Kiri was staring at him.  
  
He suddenly had a feeling that she could read his mind. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?”  
  
“Yes, it does. I do know magic. They just don’t believe me. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, ‘cause I’m the most powerful child ever. One day, they will be sorry. I will be Queen, and they will have to do what I tell them, or else!” She looked at him, and then spoke quietly. “But you must not tell anyone. We must keep it secret.”

He wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not, but he had an inspiration. “I know what, when we both grow up, we can get married. I will be King and you can be my Queen. Then no one will ever bother you again!”

She appeared to consider it. “But do you believe me?”

Realizing how important it was to Kiri, he nodded. “I do. Deal?”

“Yes, we will get married, and I shall be your queen and no one will ever push me down again.”

His mind returned to the present. It seemed like yesterday he had made that deal with the little girl. He briefly wondered what had happened to Kiri. Had she found her champion, someone to protect her from the bullies? He had forgotten his promise.

He sighed. He had not kept his promise to the little girl; he had let her down. Just as he had let his mother down. Frigga was dead because of him. It was all his fault! His hatred of Odin and his envy of Thor had been the reason he had given Kurse the fastest way to the main parts of the palace. He had killed her.

The guilt consumed him. Vaguely, he became aware that Thor was standing outside his cell.

His illusion sneered at his brother. “After all this time, now you come to visit me, brother. Why? Have you come to gloat? To mock?”

“Loki! Enough! No more illusions!” Thor roared back.

He is right, he realizes. There can be no more illusions. He allows the illusion to dissipate, allowing Thor to see him as he is. He does not care anymore what anyone thinks.

He can see his brother staring at him, walking around to get a closer look. He knows he is a mess. Blood is everywhere; on his feet, his hands, even in his hair. He doesn’t care.

“Did she suffer?” he finally asks.

“I did not come to share our grief. I came to offer you a chance of a far richer sacrament.”

Richer? How did one justify a death? A death of a loved one? His mind flicked back to that memory, when he had been beginning to learn magic. How proud Frigga had been of him. She would not be proud of him now. What good could he do now?  
  
“Go on,” he finally speaks, and listens to Thor’s offer.

“I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. You help me escape Asgard, and I will grant it to you. Vengeance.” Thor paused, then added. “And afterward, this cell.”

“You must be truly desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me?” he asks, curious about Thor’s motives.

“I don’t,” Thor admitted. “Mother did. You should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me, and I will kill you.”

_‘I was always here, brother. Mother knew that, but you could not see it, could you?’_

He considered the offer.

“When do we start?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this one-shot. It came about as a part of the current story series I am writing. If you would like to know what happened to the little dark-haired girl, start with the story Alliance. It is continued in Exile, and Retribution (in-progress), to be followed by Redemption.


End file.
